


In the Hands of the Enemy

by matimae



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gun Violence, Kidnapped, On a case, Pick who dies, Undercover, Whump, Whumptober 2020, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26723422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matimae/pseuds/matimae
Summary: Peter and Neal are caught up in a tricky situation while on a case.  Accidently exposing themselves while undercover turns deadly, quick.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	In the Hands of the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> written for whumptober 2020 no.2 (pick who dies, kidnapped)

Neal and Peter were seated on a $14k sofa in the middle of the living room of the suspect of their latest case. They were investigating a recent string of forgeries that Neal had connected and was convinced the culprit was sitting across from them sharing a glass of wine.

  
  


“So, how long have you been in the city?”

  
  


“Me? Oh, born and raised! You know how it is,” Neal said, leaning back into his chair, subconsciously making his body movements as relaxed as possible to set the other man at ease.

  
  


“I do indeed, I do indeed...” he swirled his wine in his hand.

  
  


The conversation was seeming to go well, nowhere too fast, and yet he didn’t seem too uneasy either. Still, Neal wasn’t quite sure they had the cat in the bag for this one.

  
  


“Peter, tell me, now why should I go with you?”

Peter and Neal shared a glance.

“Well, Michael, with us you know that you’re with people you can trust. If you do this deal with us- you can have the satisfaction and _guarantee_ of a trustworthy operation.” Peter smiled, his eyes were warm. He was used to this undercover thing. In fact, he kinda missed it.

Of course that couldn’t last for long.

“You know, I think I will. I want this deal to go through, and if you two can make it happen then I think it’s about time we become business partners. I did those last three jobs on my own, and while it was a boost to my ego just to know that I, can, in fact do it all, I don’t need to be busting my ass all night just to even _find_ a fence who can take my ‘Picasso’s’...I’m sure you boys know how it is.”

Michael laughed in the silence and Neal gave out a chuckle to seem entertained, while trying to catch eyes with Peter again. They had him, point blank.

He admitted to the crime and they had to on a wire, all they had to do was end the meeting and exit quietly. Easily enough.

“I think this partnership will be very beneficial, and...” Neal slapped his knees in the signature ‘I’m getting ready to leave’ body language move that he didn’t even know where it originated.

“Going so soon? You haven’t even finished your wine! We’re gonna be partners! Let’s have a little fun!” Michael protested.

There was a little more aggression behind his smile now. The uneasiness was growing inside Neal’s stomach.

Peter’s face stretched into a thin grimace that he tried to hide in a nod, “Of course we can have fun! What my partner was just meaning is that it’s getting late, and if we have no more meeting details to wrap up...” he began to stand up and Michael joined him.

“Please. I insist. I really think that you should finish the glass of wine.”

Peter’s adams apple bobbed up and down.

“I mean, if you insist.” Peter sat back down on the couch. He made no move to grab the wine glass off the coaster that rested on the sleek black modern coffee table.

They needed back up. Neal was certain about that. If Michael was beginning to get suspicious of them anything could happen, God forbid he check them for wires.

Neal took a sip of his wine. If it was poisoned he would have already been affected. And anyways, it was a segway to maybe call for backup. And worse case scenario, it couldn’t hurt to take the edge off and be a little buzzed. If he was going to be kidnapped, might as well be sipping the good stuff.

“This wine is great. Went right through me though. Which way is your bathroom?” Neal pointed in a few different directions, waiting for an answer.

Neal had a way of silver tongue-ing his way out of things and he half expected it to work, if he could get to a bathroom he could get backup for Peter and then case closed!

Not so lucky.

“You, two, are...so...” Michael flexed his hands. “ _convenient_. You show up here, exactly when I need someone, as if help ever just falls from the sky? And then you want to bounce immediately after we make a deal?” Michael shook his head.

Neal didn’t like where this was going. Monologue territory.

“I work my whole life, and you guys think you can come in here and con me out of my own game? You want to cut me out? Before you even cut me in?”

“I think you’re overreacting, let’s take a breath...” Peter said, with his hands in a defensive position.

“Overreacting? Overreacting?!”

Shit. Wrong move, Peter.

“I’ll tell you what’s ‘overreacting’!” Michael reached into one of his drawers and pulled out a silver hard case. That uneasy feeling was getting worse.

Unbolting the case Michael brought out a matching silver pistol. He stroked the edges of the weapon and turned to face Peter and Neal.

“Now, this, THIS, would be overreacting.”

“You don’t have to do anything. We’re all civil.”

“ _I’M_ civil. You’re dead.” Micheal leaned over to his two ‘guests’ and flaunted his gun in their faces.

Michael put the gun up to Neal’s temple, the steel dug into his forehead and Neal felt like he was going to throw up. He never throws up. “Please,”

“No. No ‘pleases’. I’m not totally convinced you aren’t cops the whole time. You’re trying to screw me, I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but _I am smarter then you! And I figured it out before you!”_

This guy had completely lost his mind. With a gun in hand who knows just the damage he could inflict. Neal didn’t care to find out.

“Take off your shirt. That’s where they hide them? Right? The wires?”

Neal guffawed for a moment trying to stall for any moment of time. “I don’t think that’s really necessary, I mean, we’re all friends here...”

Michael just pushed the pistol harder into his head and Neal flinched away from it. “Now!”

Peter and Neal began to unbutton their shirts, as slow as they could go without getting yelled at from Michael. Trying their best not to reveal the real wires that they did in fact have hidden on them.

That didn’t end up happening.

“What the hell? What the hell...No, no, no, no...” Michael ripped the wire from Neal and started to pace the room, running his hands through his hair, his gun almost falling out of his hands in the process.

“So you’re cops. Or feds. Or it doesn’t matter. Because I’m screwed. NO!” Michael slammed his fist into the wall, punching a hole right through it.

Peter and Neal shared a look. If it were just him, he might just make a run for it. But with Peter here, Neal couldn’t take the risk. Michael could start shooting at any point.

“No, you know what? This is fine. Because,” Michael dropped the wire onto the ground and stomped it beneath his foot. “I am just going to solve my problem.”

"Pick who dies first.”

Neal almost shot out of his seat in protest. “No way! You can’t do this!”

“Take a breath. We can work this out,” Peter said in his best soothing voice.

“No. This is what is going to happen. So...pick who dies first!”

This can’t be happening. This honestly can’t be happening. Any moment he is going to wake up to Moz starring him in the face cause he overslept. No way was this his reality- his ending. If it was, of course Neal had to be first. It always had to be him. Right? He was a criminal, it’s not like his life expectancy was that long anyways.

“Me, me. Kill me first.” Neal tried to direct Michael toward him, to look in his eyes. “Kill me, and let Peter go. He has a wife. He has a _life_. I’m nobody. Just...kill me,”

Peter was already shaking his head, “No way. Kill me. Let _Neal_ go! He’s young, I mean he’s got his whole life ahead of him!”

They kept fighting over who should go first, partly to stall, partly because neither one of them could ever watch the other one die.

“You know what? I don’t care about which one of you is the most self sacrificial of the two. You’re both gonna end up dead, so I’m just going to pick one.”

“Neal. If that _is_ your real name...I hope you lived out your life how you wanted to the best you could.”

Michael walked over to him and once again placed the gun directly against his temple. Of course the way he would go out would be by gun. Like father like son?

"It's gonna be okay, Neal" Peter said through a voice break, but no one in the room believed it.

Michael cocked the gun and with a tingling feeling Neal felt himself leave his body. Like he was hovering over it, just by a few inches. Maybe this will hurt less... The only thing that told him that he wasn’t dead yet was his heart beating at a mile a minute.

It was coming.

He knew it.

He couldn't talk himself out of this one.

Then a bang.

Neal opened his eyes to the door being knocked off it’s hinges and a small army of 15 FBI agents stormed into the living room.

“FBI! Drop your weapon!”

Michael aimed his pistol between Peter, Neal, and the oncoming Agents. Quickly realizing that he was outnumbered he dropped the weapon and fell to his knees.

Neal let out a deep breath, feeling was finally coming back to his legs, though his adrenaline was still shooting high.

"You guys were taking _way_ too long," Jones said with a laugh. “thought you might need some backup.”

Peter sighed and clasped a hand on Neal’s shoulder, unwittingly making him jump. "You couldn’t have had better timing, Jones. Although next time we do a set up, let’s meet the perp at _our choice location_.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
